


Sharks

by der_tanzer



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murray takes charge in an emergency and Nick isn't sure how to thank him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Incident

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I have to explain this, lest it be misunderstood. This isn't the first story I wrote, but it's probably the first one I thought of, when I was in the third grade and didn't understand people so well. Nick always struck me as angry, even dangerous, and I had the feeling that Cody, as peacemaker, was protecting Murray from him. My earliest speculations involved what would happen if that protection broke down. Of course, I know better now, but the story remained. I hope no one takes it wrong.

"Is there any more beer?" Cody asked, half reclining against the palm tree. It was hot and he didn't want to get up to see.

"Maybe," Nick shrugged. "Not here, but there's another cooler on the _Ebb Tide_. Where's Murray?"

Cody straightened up and shaded his eyes. "He's still in the water. I see his snorkel."

"Forget it, buddy, you're going to have to get up," Nick shrugged.

"Any chance you might want to—?"

"None at all. I still have half a bottle."

What had started out yesterday as a fishing trip had today morphed into lying around on the beach on Shark Island, drinking beer while Murray explored the bay with snorkel mask and flippers. He was probably going to get burned, but he was having too much fun for them to try stop him.

"Only guy in the world who snorkels in a t-shirt, I bet," Cody muttered, finally getting to his feet.

"Don't blame the Boz, just because he isn't here to serve you. Anyway, if you have much more to drink, you won't be able to find King Harbor."

"I'm not drunk. And even if I was, I won't be by the time we leave." He was disappointed in his friend's lack of faith and started down the beach in a huff. To even suggest that he would take risks with their lives, not to mention his boat, was a heavy insult coming from Nick. Thinking about that, he didn't see the fallen palm frond that was sticking out of the sand to trip him. He tried to catch himself but his reflexes were badly impaired by alcohol and the unrelenting heat of the day. Maybe I am drunk, he thought, and then everything went black.

Nick saw Cody fall and got up, shaking his head.

"Not drunk," he muttered. "Sure, buddy. Whatever you say." He started in Cody's direction, walking slowly, expecting his friend to sit up any moment. But Cody didn't move, and Nick started to run. He was calling Cody's name without hearing himself, cold panic rising in his chest. When he reached his friend, when he saw the way Cody lay face down in the hot sand without moving, he went to his knees and turned him carefully. There was blood in the blond hair, trailing down the pale face and pooling in the sand around a sharp rock. Nick's cold panic turned in an instant to burning terror.

"Hey, buddy, wake up," he said, too loudly, patting Cody's cheek. "Come on, can you hear me?"

There was no response and he knew he had to start moving. Even if it was nothing—well, it wasn't nothing. He gave it another minute but Cody never so much as fluttered an eyelash. Nick jumped up and splashed into the ocean, swimming out to where Murray still played, not knowing that anything was wrong. When Nick caught up and grabbed his shoulder, Murray sucked water through the snorkel and came up choking.

"Jeez, Nick, what did you do that for?" he gasped, coughing up salt water.

"Cody's hurt. I need your help."

Murray asked no more questions. He swam toward shore until the water grew too shallow, then kicked off his flippers and started wading. He beat Nick swimming but the stronger man caught up in knee high water and dragged him onto the beach. Cody still hadn't moved.

"How long ago did it happen?" Murray asked, kneeling down beside him.

"I don't know, five minutes? Maybe ten. You were out pretty far."

"Yeah, sorry." He bent and checked Cody's pulse, then raised his eyelids, one at a time. He made a thoughtful sound that Nick didn't like and raised both eyelids at once, leaning so close he might have been about to kiss his friend. "Nick, this is bad," he said quietly.

"What? Murray, he was just walking on the beach. He bumped his head, that's all."

"Maybe, but his pupils are unequal."

"What does that mean?"

"Didn't they teach you any first aid in the Army? It means they aren't reacting to the light stimulus in the same way. One is closing against the sunlight, like it's supposed to, and the other is dilated. It's a classic sign of—of brain injury."

"Okay," Nick said, his voice shaking. "What do we do? Should you stay here with him while I go for help?"

"No, that'll take too long," Murray said, thinking fast. "We have to get him to a hospital as soon as possible. Can you pick him up?"

Nick didn't hesitate but his friend was heavier than he'd expected. Dead weight. He'd never really considered that phrase before and now it gave him chills.

"Help me out, Murray," he said, a little breathlessly. "Grab his legs." Together they got him into the _Ebb Tide_ and Nick pushed it off the beach, leaving everything else behind.

"Pull up alongside," Murray said, as they neared the _Riptide_.

"Yeah, I know that, Boz."

"Don't get snippy with me," he replied, his voice even and oddly distant. "I'm planning ahead so we don't bitch this up and kill him before we get home."

The words hit Nick like a slap in the face and he began to fall under the spell. It was the same spell Murray had cast when he was fighting McBride on his computer, or shooting down US Army helicopters. Nick didn't know for sure how to help Cody but it sounded like Murray did. That peculiar tone of confidence was rare and the Boz always backed it up.

Nick edged the _Ebb Tide_'s bow snug into the _Riptide_'s flank and grabbed the hanging stern line. He was glad of the job of fixing the line to the _Ebb Tide_'s stem ring, something he knew how to do, and then was pulled up by the question of how to move Cody without the two boats drifting apart. Or maybe they didn't have to move him. He was fairly safe there and heaving him over the side might be dangerous.

"We have to get him inside, out of the sun," Murray said, the confident tone cutting through Nick's confusion like a knife. _Of course we do, I knew that_. "I'm going to climb aboard and drop you a line, Nick. If you do it, I'll probably miss. Fix it as far back on the stern as you can."

For the first time ever, Murray climbed from the smaller boat onto the larger without anyone to pull him up. Nick didn't think he even noticed. A minute later he was throwing a warp line and Nick caught it easily. He tied a quick knot around the toe rail on the _Ebb Tide_'s stern, still not thinking clearly enough to know why. But when he looked up he saw Murray on deck, trudging toward the _Riptide_'s bow, the rope over his shoulder. He hauled it as far as he could, then wrapped the line around the rail and snubbed it up short. Cody would likely have used a deck cleat, but Cody was a lot stronger. Murray could never have made that work. Instead he hauled the line until the two boats were hard alongside, bow to stern, and made it fast to the rail. Cody would freak out if he saw that but at least it wouldn't be for long.

"One more minute, Nick," he called and ran to get a heavier line. But luck smiled on them this time and in the locker he found a parachute harness that Nick had been repairing. Murray wasn't sure it was up to jumping out of an aircraft but it would do nicely for this. He tied a line to the harness and tossed it down. "Put this on him and then get up here," he called, in a voice that expected to be obeyed. Nick did and together they pulled the limp body aboard without much trouble. Nick got the harness off while Murray struggled to undo the line that held the _Ebb Tide_'s stern up against the _Riptide_.

"What are you doing?" Nick said. "Leave that and come help me."

"I can't leave it; it'll foul us up getting back."

"What are you talking about?"

"Physics," he said sharply, pulling a knife from his pocket and cutting the line. "Hydrodynamics, specifically. Are you really going to argue science with me? Because I don't think this is a very good time." He turned away from the rail as the _Ebb Tide_ began to bob away, back to the stern where it would follow in the most energy efficient way possible, not backing into the _Riptide_'s wake and making it twice as hard to steer.

Together they carried Cody into the salon and then diverged again, Nick starting to go below.

"No, on the couch," Murray said, heading that way with Cody's feet.

"He'll be more comfortable in bed."

"And we need to stay in communication. I don't have a walkie talkie, Nick. Do you?"

"Right, no. Okay, you stay here and keep an eye on him." He settled his friend on the couch and turned toward the wheelhouse.

"Wait," Murray said and that peculiar authority made Nick stop. "I'll drive the boat, you stay here with Cody."

"Murray, you can't drive the boat."

"Of course I can. You don't even know how to get home from here."

"And you do?"

Murray was already headed to the wheelhouse and Nick followed.

"I can read the charts. Don't get offended, Nick, I'm just being honest. The channels shift and you know you aren't good with the charts and tides. You can't even remember which color of buoy goes on which side when we enter the channel. If you take us in with our port side to the red we'll all be screwed." Underneath that was the unspoken _don't bitch this up_ and Nick was forced to admit it. For a second he really couldn't remember the buoy positions and if Cody really was in danger, Nick couldn't let it be his fault if things went wrong.

"Boz, are you sure you can do this? I know Cody's teaching you but—it's not as easy as it sounds."

"It's perfectly easy," Murray said, confident and distracted, hard at work. He was running the checklist and laying out the chart that Cody carried in his head and lesser sailors had to physically read. "It's not seamanship, it's following directions. Do the checklist, read the chart, go from point A to point B. I can do that better than either of you, if you'll just give me room. Although," he couldn't help adding, "I have been reading _The Chapman Blue Book_." Nick rolled his eyes and suppressed a groan. Cody was always going on about _The Blue Book_ but Nick had never so much as touched the damned thing.

Still, Nick waited until he saw Murray do the most important things, start the blowers, fire the engines, and begin to haul anchor. For some reason he'd been worried that the incredibly brilliant scientist with the checklist in front of him might forget the blowers or start the anchor winch before the engines. Now he felt stupid and more than a little useless. Was this how he and Cody made Murray feel?

"Yeah, you're right," he said, humbled. "I'll go be with Cody."

"Good idea. And don't forget to cover him up. Don't let him get cold."

"Murray, it's ninety degrees in here."

"I know that, but he might go into shock." Which was a nice way of saying he probably already had. Nick stopped arguing and went down to their cabin for a blanket. As he tucked it around his unconscious friend, he spoke quietly, telling him comforting things.

"We're getting you home, buddy," he said, his hand on Cody's neck to follow his pulse. "Murray's in charge so I'm going to stay right here. It's okay, though, I think he can handle it. As long as there are instructions he's our guy, right?" As if to lend credence to his words, the pitch of the motors climbed and the _Riptide_ began making headway. Cody moaned softly, responding instinctively to the voice of his boat if not his friend.

"It's okay, buddy, it's okay," Nick said gently. "Everything's okay." But in his heart he was afraid.

Up in the wheelhouse, Murray wasn't afraid. He was following instructions, doing what he knew to be right, and felt no doubts. It wasn't hard to drive worry from his mind, as he drove out all things when he was working. Nick was handling the worrying and they only needed one man on the job.

Desperate for something to do, Nick went down to the head and got a cold washcloth to clean up some of the blood still trickling down Cody's face. The wound didn't look bad but he remembered what Murray had said about his pupils. In 'Nam Nick had seen medics flashing penlights in patients' eyes during triage, and something they saw there caused them to work on some men and put others aside to die. He'd never asked what they saw and he didn't want to know now.

Cody didn't respond to the coolness or the gentle touch on his face, but when Nick squeezed his hand, he squeezed back. It wasn't strong but it was real and Nick felt a surge of hope.

Twenty minutes out of port, Murray got on the radio and made an emergency call for an ambulance to meet them at the pier. Cody hadn't spoken or opened his eyes but he kept responding to Nick's pressure on his hand and as a result his friend wasn't so scared anymore. Nick thought that meant he hadn't gotten worse and things would soon be right again. If Murray could steer the _Riptide_ through the channel and dock safely in heavy harbor traffic, anything could happen.

***

The paramedics came aboard and started an IV. They checked Cody's eyes with a penlight, setting Nick up with at least a week's worth of 'Nam related nightmares, no matter how well this turned out. But he was still obeying Murray and helped make fast the boat, grabbed his car keys and locked the doors before they left. He wanted to go in the ambulance but he didn't want Murray driving his car (stupid, after what he'd just seen, but still…), and he didn't want to leave him alone, either. At least Cody had attendants with him.

Nick followed the ambulance, driving too fast and running red lights, not noticing that Murray wasn't scared as he usually was during high speed chases. He managed to resist parking in the ambulance zone but the extra distance meant he had to run to catch up to Cody before they got inside. Murray, left behind, went in through the proper entrance and sat down where Nick would be sure to see him. He knew the doctors would chase Nick out soon, and a minute later they did.

"Did you find out anything?" Murray asked.

"Yeah, I hate hospitals. Here, they gave us forms."

Murray took the clipboard, selected a pen from his shirt pocket (Murray would never come to the hospital without his pen-filled over-shirt, even if the clothes beneath it were still wet from snorkeling), and began to write. They'd done this so many times, he had no trouble filling it in from memory. _Name, birth date, allergies (none), next of kin (Nick), most recent hospitalization (last month)_. He didn't know he was humming to himself until Nick elbowed him sharply and told him to stop.

"Oh, sorry." He finished the forms in silence and returned them to the desk. When he came back, Nick was leaning on his elbows, face hidden in his hands. "Hey, Nick," he said quietly. "It's going to be okay. We got here in time."

"How do you know that?"

"Was he still responding when you left him?"

"Yeah, some. He was squeezing my hand and—and reacting to pain."

"That's hard to watch, I know, but he won't remember it." He laid his hand cautiously on Nick's back, as he had so often seen Cody do when their friend was upset. "It's going to be okay."

"Murray, how do you know so much about this? You didn't go to medical school while we weren't looking, did you?"

"No. No, I—I had a friend when I was really young, Billy Thompson. When we were in the third grade we were riding our bikes home from school and he got hit by a car. Nobody wore helmets back then, you know, and he suffered a pretty serious head injury. I was interested in the brain so I started studying up, trying to find something that could help him. Or at least help me to understand."

"And did he get better?"

"Well, no. He died in a coma a couple of weeks later. But I kept studying so I'd know what to do next time. I didn't want to just sit there and cry, like I did when Billy was lying in the street." His voice broke and he turned away, withdrawing the comforting hand. For the first time Nick remembered that Cody was Murray's friend, too. That just because he'd been in control when he needed to be, that didn't mean he wasn't scared to death.

"Hey, Boz, I'm sorry," Nick said, putting his arm around Murray's trembling shoulders. "I mean that that happened to you. And I want you to know that I appreciate how strong you've been today. I couldn't have gotten him here—well, I could have, but not nearly as fast—without you. 'Cause, you know, you're right about the charts. And I would have been too worried to be careful. I'm glad you were there to be careful for me."

"I can't help it. I'm just hopelessly methodical." He laughed and it turned into a sob. Nick pulled him closer, pressed their foreheads together, and held him until he got it together again.

"I'm going to tell Cody how well you handled his boat," Nick said, smiling gently. "He's going to know you saved his life."

"It doesn't matter," Murray shrugged. "I couldn't have done it alone anymore than you could. I never would have gotten him off the island."

"That's why we're a team. Come on, you want to go get some coffee?"

"Sure. Well, maybe something with less caffeine for me. My heart's beating awfully fast as it is."

"Whatever you want; I'm buying." Nick stood up and offered him a hand. Murray was still shaking a little. They walked down the hall together, shoulders touching lightly, and after a moment, Nick spoke again. "Say, Boz, all that stuff you learned about head injuries—what do you think about Cody? Is he really gonna be okay?"

"Well, the treatment technology has come a long way since then and I haven't really kept up. But, yes, I think so. They might—well, he might need surgery. To relieve the pressure, you know."

"No, I don't know. What pressure?"

"Oh. Well, the unequal pupils indicate intracranial bleeding, which puts pressure on the tissue of the brain and—"

"In English, Murray. Talk to me like I'm five."

"I don't know how to talk to five year olds. What I mean is that his brain is, or at least was, bleeding. But inside the skull, there's nowhere for blood to go so it creates pressure on the brain. Once they relieve the pressure, either through surgery or medication, he'll wake up."

"If the bleeding's stopped."

"Oh, well, yes. If it hasn't by now then surgery is almost guaranteed. But it's still okay. It happens all the time."

"So do plane crashes, but that doesn't make 'em right."

"No. I'm sorry." Murray hung his head a little more and Nick gave him a gentle shake.

"I'm sorry, buddy. I shouldn't have said that. Here, sit down and I'll get you a cup of decaf."

They'd reached the cafeteria at some point and Murray sat where he was told. Nick brought him coffee and told him what the doctor had said about doing tests and brain scans and all sorts of things he hadn't really understood. At the time Nick hadn't minded, or even really noticed, that Murray wasn't there, but now he wished he had been. He probably could have made sense out of all the information and then he'd be the one offering comforting platitudes right now. They'd be more believable coming from a scientist anyway. Nick hardly ever felt stupid but he did right now. Uneducated and out of his element. All he could do was keep his voice low and distract Murray from the fact that he had nothing to say.

***

The doctors determined that the bleeding had stopped but they still wanted to take out a small piece of Cody's skull to relieve the pressure and clean out any blood clots. Nick and Murray waited for hours outside the OR before being told that the procedure had been a success. They were given two minutes to see their friend, two minutes to stand by his bed, hold his hands, plead with him to wake up soon, and then they were banished from the hospital. It was long after dark by now and the doctor in charge told them not to come back until morning. Nick gave their phone number to everyone he saw, made them all promise to call if anything changed, and finally allowed Murray to drag him away.

The drive home was much slower and quieter than the trip to town had been. Nick hated to go, it felt disloyal and deeply wrong. Murray knew it, he could read his friends like books, but didn't bother to argue. People felt how they felt. He could only hope to influence what they did.

"Come down to the galley and I'll make us some soup," he said as they got out of the car. "There's still some of that bread you like."

"I'm not really hungry," Nick said and a strange role reversal took place.

"I know you're not. I'm not, either. But we both get mean if we don't eat and Cody needs us to be at our best." That was half true. Nick got mean when he didn't eat. Murray just got hyper and stupid enough to point it out.

"Don't tell me what Cody needs. I've known him for twelve years, he's my best friend. What the hell do you know about that?"

Murray was stung but hid it carefully. "I know you're scared and hurt and probably feeling guilty—" He didn't get any further. They were on the gangway now and Nick grabbed him from behind, spun him against the railing and punched him twice, a sharp jab to the ribs followed by a quick uppercut into his face as he doubled over. Murray's glasses broke with a sharp snap but he made no sound. Nick turned pale and released the thin body as if it were too hot to hold. Murray went to his knees and Nick crouched beside him.

"Oh Murray," he whispered. "Jesus, Boz, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Fine," Murray gasped, struggling for breath. "I'm fine."

"I—I don't know what came over me. Jeez, I broke your glasses."

"I have another pair, it's okay." He grabbed hold of the wooden railing and pulled himself up, flinching away from Nick's helping hand without meaning to. The stricken look on his friend's face filled Murray with guilt, as if he were the one who'd done wrong. He would have to be more careful not to bring these things upon himself.

"You're right, Boz," Nick said suddenly, as they boarded the boat. "I do feel guilty. That's why I hit you and I'm so sorry."

"I know that. Forget it, Nick, it doesn't matter. I'm going to start supper and I want you to come down and eat. For Cody, okay?"

"If it'll make you happy," Nick said. At that moment he would have agreed to anything. Murray went down to his cabin to get his old glasses and met Nick again in the galley.

"Your eye's gonna swell up if you don't put something on it," Nick said quietly, as he sliced and buttered bread. Murray poured soup stock into a pot and added some vegetables and cooked chicken. He'd been planning on making it for supper tonight if they didn't catch any fish. Suddenly the fishing trip seemed very long ago.

"It's okay. It doesn't hurt." And compared to his chest, it didn't.

Nick was hungrier than he'd thought and ate two bowls of soup, as well as most of the bread. He helped Murray wash the dishes without talking much. He wanted to keep apologizing, to tell Murray how sorry he was and ask if he was really forgiven, but Murray's brand of forgiveness precluded apologies. In the end Nick just said goodnight and went to his stateroom. After he was gone there was a knock on the salon door, a woman's voice asking permission to board, but he didn't come back up. Murray went to the door and found the visitor was Mama Jo.

"Don't want to be a bother," she said briskly. "I just wanted to know how Cody's doing. And you. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he muttered, his hand going automatically to his swollen eye.

"I saw what happened. You must have said something pretty bad to have that coming."

"No. Well, right words, wrong time. Like always."

"Hmm. Well, Murray, I don't like to put my nose where it doesn't belong but if you want to, just this once, you can come aboard the _Contessa_ for the night. I'd hate to see you get hurt."

"Oh no, that's not necessary. I'll be fine. Nick would never hurt me."

"Is that right," she said ironically. "So tell me how Cody's doing and if you like, I'll let people know so they won't all come around disturbing you."

"Yes, we'd appreciate that. Thank you, Mama Jo," he said nervously. "But there's not really much to tell right now. He had surgery to relieve the pressure in his brain. The bleeding stopped on its own and the doctor says his vitals are strong but we don't know when he'll wake up. Maybe tomorrow or maybe next week."

"But he will wake up," she said, not asking. "I'll pass the word. Are you sure you don't need anything else?"

"No, no, thank you. Well, maybe, since we'll be at the hospital all day tomorrow, someone could keep an eye on the boat. But not Dooley. Cody wouldn't like that."

"I'll ask John Harper. He's on the other side of the _Contessa_ but his boat's on the rails this week, getting the hull scraped."

"That'd be great, Mama Jo. Thank you."

"Not a problem. Now you get yourself some sleep, child. And tell Nick not to worry. Every one of you has heads too hard to break with a hammer."

"I will. Goodnight, Mama," he said softly, leaving her name off on purpose. It made him feel better somehow.

"Goodnight, Murray." She smiled under her stern Greek hat and he knew she understood.

He went down to his cabin and put on his pajamas, then wasn't sure what to do. He wouldn't sleep, that was for certain. But what should he do instead? He thought about it a long time and decided the right thing was to check on Nick. It felt funny somehow, going to the rear cabin in the night, as his friends had so often come to his when he was sick or just working too late. In spite of everything that had happened today, it was _their_ job to look after _him_ and he felt out of his league.

"Nick, are you awake?" he whispered.

"Yeah, come in. Was there someone here?"

"Just Mama Jo."

Nick made an understanding sound and Murray didn't elaborate. He didn't need to be told why she'd come or what she'd said; he'd known the good woman too long.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah," he said, and Murray didn't know what he meant. Was Nick okay, or did he just know that was why Murray was there?

"Well, do you—do you need anything?"

"No. Well, if you don't mind… No, forget it. Go to bed."

"What is it? I don't think I'll be able to sleep anyway."

"Really?"

"I never sleep much. I was going to read for a while; I'm studying this new programming language so I can modify it for—well, you're not interested in that."

"It's not that I'm not interested, I just don't understand it."

"That's okay. What did you want?"

"Well, I didn't know you weren't going to sleep. I was going to say you could sleep here, in Cody's bunk, if you wanted to. It's been so long since I spent the night alone—but I guess you're used to it. And I wouldn't blame you if—well, if you hated me."

Murray closed the door and took off his robe.

"I could never hate you, Nick, anymore than you could hate me. And I like being alone most of the time," he shrugged. "I don't fit very well with other people, as you've probably noticed."

"Did you want to be alone tonight?"

"Not so much. He's going to be okay, though. You have to believe that. We'll worry, like we always do, but he'll get better in no time." Murray crawled into the empty bed, smelling Cody's cologne on the pillow. Canoe, of course. But Murray rather liked it. He liked Nick's Old Spice, too, and knew that if Nick had been the one hurt, he'd be smelling that tonight, instead. It was Cody who had first invited him to sleep in their room, one night when Nick was serving five days for tearing up a ticket Quinlan had written on the 'Vette. Murray had been surprised by the offer, Cody was always the tough one, but spending the night with him didn't damage that image. Cody had said goodnight and gone to sleep while Murray lay awake wondering what he was supposed to do. Eventually he figured out that Cody just wanted someone nearby. And apparently Nick did, too.

"If you can't sleep, don't worry about it," Nick said suddenly. "You can leave if you want."

"Yes, yes, I know. But I think I'll sleep all right."

"Murray, do we treat you okay? I mean, besides tonight."

"Sure, of course you do. Why would you ask that?"

"Why…? Never mind. I just feel like Cody and me—we depend on each other a lot and you—you just kind of squeeze in where you can. Like sleeping by yourself at the other end of the boat while the two of us are back here together."

"Well, I have all my equipment and I stay up later than you do. Anyway, I know you guys kind of—need to be close."

"But we need you, too, Boz."

"Well, yes, I know that. But it's not the same. You have a special bond that I'm not really a part of. Not all the way."

"We don't want you to feel that way, though. You resist being brought in too much."

"Fear of rejection, I guess," he said slowly. "I've been rejected a lot."

"Yeah. But not here. And I want you to know something, Murray. Cody's going to be okay, I know that, but if he weren't—if something _really_ bad had happened—I'd want us to stick together. I know Cody wants that, too. If something happened to me, he'd need you around, even if he wouldn't admit it."

"I know that, Nick. I'd never leave you guys, you're my best friends. But I'm glad to hear you say it anyway. I can't ever take his place but I'd do my best. I mean, I'd be the best friend to you that I could."

"You already are. And you know what, Boz? Your best is pretty damned good." Nick switched off the lamp over his bed and turned on his side, facing the other bunk. "You did save his life today, you know. I was too scared to think straight and you knew what to do. I was impressed."

"If I hadn't, you would have."

"Maybe if we'd had a car or a chopper, but I'm not really into the whole boat thing. This was Cody's idea and I went along because—well, because he needed it so much. It was his dream. And I never even learned how to get out of the harbor without raking the hell out of it."

"Well, neither of us can fly and, according to you guys, I can barely drive. Nick, stop looking for ways to punish yourself. He's going to be fine."

"I know, I know. It's just all so—what's the word?"

"Arbitrary? Random? Mysterious?"

"Yeah, one of those. I'm sorry, I'm going to sleep now. Goodnight, Murray."

"Goodnight, Nick." But Murray didn't sleep and after a while he realized Nick wasn't, either. A while after that he heard a sniff and realized Nick was crying. Silently, Murray slid out of bed and went to his side. Nick turned away, wiping furiously at his eyes, and Murray jabbed him in the back with his thumb.

"Go away," Nick said, his voice choked with tears. "Go back to bed."

"Move over," Murray said, as if he hadn't spoken. That caused Nick to turn over again, a look of disbelief on his face, but he backed toward the wall anyway. Murray got into bed with him and before he quite knew how it happened, Nick was in his arms, sobbing out all the guilt and fear in his heart. Murray held him, hushed him with soothing words of love and forgiveness, and eventually Nick went to sleep. Murray didn't, but he didn't need to. At least not yet.

 

***

Murray slid out of bed and went forward to his cabin to dress, smiling thoughtlessly at the early sun beaming through the windows. Even when things were going wrong, he had a hard time not appreciating the good around him. He was making breakfast when Nick came into the galley, still in his pajamas, his eyes puffy with tears and sleep.

"I'm gonna take a shower and then we ought to get over to the hospital," he said gruffly, pouring a cup of coffee and trying not to look at Murray's eye.

"Have some breakfast first. It's almost ready."

"We don't have time."

"Yes we do. Here are your eggs and the bacon will be up in less than a minute."

"You know, with all your inventions I'm surprised you haven't come up with one of those Road Runner breakfast machines." Nick sounded like he didn't care much but he sat down and picked at his eggs. The bacon, when it appeared, was more appetizing and he managed to finish that. Murray really was a pretty good cook, especially for a guy who hardly ever ate.

He piled the dishes in the sink but didn't wash them so Nick could have all the hot water for his shower. When the phone rang Murray ran to answer it, fearing the worst and not wanting Nick to hear it first. He had suddenly become very protective of the man who had always protected him. But it was good news.

The shower was still running and Murray knocked on the door before opening it. "Nick, are you about done?"

"I've been in here five minutes, Boz. What is it?"

"The hospital just called. Cody's awake."

The water went off at once and the shower door flew open. Nick lunged out, grabbing a towel in the same motion, and nearly collided with the skinny man.

"You have time to finish shaving," Murray laughed. "You don't want to go out with your face half done."

Nick finished in the sink, cutting himself several times, and still had bits of tissue stuck to his chin when was dressed. Murray plucked them off and they left the boat together.

***

"Jeez, Boz, what happened to you?" was the first thing Cody said when he saw his friends. That the words were coming from a man in a hospital bed, with his head wrapped in bandages, made Murray laugh out loud.

"Nothing. I had a little accident last night. Wasn't watching where I was going."

Cody's eyes went to Nick, as if asking where he'd been while Murray was getting hurt, and Nick's blush confused him. But he had other matters on his mind as well.

"What happened to me, then? I feel like I got hit by a truck."

"You tripped and hit your head on a rock," Nick said, pulling up a chair beside the bed. "On Shark Island, remember?"

"No. I remember going fishing. What were we doing on Shark Island?"

"The fishing was no good. We were just hanging out, drinking beer in the shade. I guess you had a little too much."

"Huh. So I'm in the hospital because I got wasted and hit my head?"

"Well, you had brain surgery. Murray, what was that thing he had?"

"Intracranial bleeding. The doctor says you're okay, though. You should be able to go home in a couple days."

"Huh," he said again. Carefully, he reached for the bed control and sat himself up a little, wincing at the pain in his head.

"You should lie down and rest, Cody. We'll stay if you want, but you need to sleep," Murray said worriedly.

"Come over here, Boz. You look like you think I'm going to bite."

Murray went over to the other side of his bed and laid his cool fingers on Cody's hand. He didn't know he'd been tricked until he saw how his friend's eyes narrowed.

"Those are knuckle bruises, buddy. Who hit you? Were you guys trying to work a case when you should have been waiting anxiously by my bedside?"

"I told you, I had an accident."

Cody turned to Nick and found his friend unable to meet his eyes. Suddenly he understood and the understanding filled him with fear. He'd been unconscious less than a day and somehow everything had gone absolutely to hell.

"Murray, buddy, would you mind going down to the gift shop and getting me a magazine or something?"

"Sure. Anything in particular?"

"No. Just something with good pictures. Boats or cars or naked girls. Whatever they have."

"Sure, okay. I'll be right back." He knew Cody wanted him to go away and wondered why. He hadn't said much. He hadn't interrupted them, or been overtly geeky. But then he hadn't done anything last night, either, and he had a black eye anyway. Murray dawdled in the corridors and stretched the errand out as long as he could, so they wouldn't be too annoyed when he came back.

"What happened to Boz?" Cody asked as soon as he was gone. "Did you guys have a fight or something? Was it because I wasn't there?"

Nick dropped into a chair, covering his face with his hands. "It was my fault. It was all me, I hit him. I was upset and he was talking and I just lashed out."

"You hit _Murray_? How could—don't you know the little guy worships you?"

"Yes, of course I know that." He dropped his hands and Cody saw tears in his eyes. "He wouldn't even get mad and he won't let me apologize. He keeps saying he understands but you know Murray, God alone knows what he's thinking."

"He's thinking he must have deserved it, you moron."

"Yeah, I know," Nick whispered. "And he won't let me say anything. He saved your life, Cody. And I beat him up."

"Wait, _he_ saved my life? What the hell happened on that island, anyway?"

"I told you, you fell and hit your head. Murray was the one who recognized how serious it was and he's the one who drove the boat back to King Harbor."

"Murray drove my boat? I didn't know—well, I was teaching him, but—is it okay?"

"He did everything right. It was maybe his finest hour."

"Which is why you beat him up? Because it should have been you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. I'm such an asshole, Cody. What am I gonna do?"

"I don't know if you can do anything. If he won't talk about it, you're kind of stuck. I don't need to tell you to be nice to him until he gets over it." He didn't add _if he does_. They were both thinking it.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be dumping this on you. You need to get some rest so you can come home."

"Yeah, I need to get out of here, that's for sure. Did I really have brain surgery? I'd think I'd feel worse after something like that."

"I would, too. Maybe Murray can explain it."

"Why don't you go find him? He's been gone long enough to start his own magazine."

"Okay. I'm sure he's just having some coffee or something."

But Nick found Murray outside the door, flipping through a yachting magazine that could probably only be found in a hospital in California. Or maybe Miami. Anywhere else and he'd have been stuck with _People_ or _Cosmo_.

"Hey, Boz," he said quietly. "Why didn't you come in?"

"I figured Cody wanted to get rid of me and you'd come out when you were done. Do you want to take him this?" he asked, offering the magazine.

"No, you do it. He wants to see you."

"Oh. Okay, sure." There was a spark of joy in his eyes but it went out too soon, as if he couldn't quite sustain it. Before Nick could speak, Murray opened the door and was gone.

"There you are," Cody said, smiling as best he could through his headache. "What'd you bring me?"

"_Yachting Today_. I hope it's okay."

"It's great, Murray, thanks. Hey, come here and sit down, will you? I'm going to fall asleep soon but I want to talk to you first."

"What about?" he asked cautiously, sitting on the edge of Nick's vacant chair. He gave Cody the magazine and was a little disappointed when his friend laid it aside.

"Nick told me what happened last night. That he was upset about me and he took it out on you. You know he's sorry, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"Right, but do you also know that you didn't deserve it? He isn't sorry that he had to do something he didn't want to, he's sorry because you were innocent and he hurt you anyway. Do you understand the difference?"

"Did he tell you that?"

"_Tell_ me? Murray, he cried. He didn't mean it. He gets wound up too tight and he's hard to handle, you know that. He's hit me before and I just hit him back. I bet you never even thought of doing that."

The skinny man shook his head in quiet amazement. Hit Nick? He'd be as likely to spit out the Host at Mass.

"I didn't think so. You always blame yourself and you never do anything wrong."

"That's not true. I do a lot of things wrong. You guys are so patient, you always forgive me…"

"And you always forgive us. Which is good because we're wrong a lot more than you are. Murray, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, anything," he said with an eagerness that made Cody's heart sink.

"Let Nick apologize. He won't stop feeling bad until he makes it up to you, and as long as he feels bad nothing will be right. Can you do that? For me?"

"I'll try," he said, laughing a little at himself.

"Good man, Boz. And thanks for saving my life."

"I didn't do that much. Nick was the one who took care of you."

"Nick's not the one who got us into port without wrecking my boat. I'm sorry for all the times we didn't trust you to do something important."

"Most of the time you were right," Murray shrugged, blushing under the praise.

"Maybe not as often as we thought. I'm awfully tired. I think I'm going to take a nap, but if you wanted to stay I'd appreciate it. Just for a while, you know."

"Sure, I know. I'll go get Nick."

"Yeah, do that. But come back, okay? I want you here, too."

Murray nodded, unable to speak. He touched Cody's hand lightly and left before he could start crying. Nick was outside the door, looking pretty miserable himself, and Murray put on a smile.

"Cody wants you to come back in. He's going to sleep soon but he wants us to stay a while."

"Yeah, okay. But I gotta say something first, Boz, and you gotta listen. Are you paying attention?"

"Yes, Nick, I'm listening." But his eyes seemed jittery and his hands were trembling. For a second Nick didn't know what to say and then the words seemed to come on their own.

"I'm sorry, Murray. I know you don't want to hear that, but I don't know what else to say. You did nothing but good yesterday and if I was mad it was because—because I didn't do enough. I'm afraid you're accepting my apologies because you think you had it coming, but you didn't. If there was any justice, I would have kissed you on the mouth, not popped you in the eye. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so," he said shyly. "You were upset, I know that."

"But not at _you_. I need you to really grasp that, Murray. I was mad at fate and chance and myself, but not _you_. I _love_ you, okay? That's what you deserve, and more than I seem to be able to give."

"I—I know that, Nick," he said, blushing furiously. "I love you, too."

"Okay then, let's go see Cody." He slung his arm around Murray's shoulders and went with him back into the room.


	2. The Aftermath

That night Murray slept in Cody's bunk again, but this time he actually got to stay there. Nick was tentatively happy, still watching Murray out of the corner of his eye to see if he was really allowed to be, or if there was more guilt in store, but on the surface, things were almost normal. At least Nick didn't cry again and Murray's hurt ribs weren't bothering him much. Last night had been terrible, holding Nick and trying to hide the pain. But in his mind, he remained unconvinced that this wasn't what he deserved. If someone had said it, he would have argued and defended himself, but as a scientist he had a hard time not taking the opposite side in a debate. When they told him it wasn't his fault, he felt a compunction to check that out and see if it could be proven wrong. And, being an almost totally subjective issue, it could. It wasn't hard at all to negate the good he had done and assume that he had annoyed Nick into punishing him. It was, in fact, quite easy, inside his own head, to make that reasonable.

He lay awake long into the night, listening to Nick snore and wishing he could be as uncomplicated as his friends. It took so little, by his standards, to make them happy. Calm seas, pretty girls, getting paid on time. They accepted most things at face value and they thought he did, too. Nick didn't know of the panicked whirl in Murray's head, the conflicting voices that told him both that he was needed desperately, here and now, and that when Cody came home, Nick wouldn't want him around anymore. That Nick loved him, he wouldn't lie about a thing like that, but that he had probably also never wanted Murray there in the first place. That he must both work harder, and stay entirely out of the way. No voice spoke up to say that none of it was fair, as one might have done had any of the other words come from outside.

Murray got up before dawn and took his shower so the water heater could recover before Nick woke. He made bacon and eggs, because Nick liked that best, and had a piece of toast while his friend ate. Cody was coming home tomorrow, but they were both going to see him this morning and Nick planned to spend the day. Murray had a stack of new leads to run down in a previously stalled case and no one thought it unusual that he wanted to get to work. If Cody were still in danger Murray would have stayed with him but he thought the two of them would just as soon be alone. They had their conversations, their bickering and silliness to occupy them, and Murray had never felt much a part of that.

They took the Jimmy to the hospital because Murray was more comfortable driving it, and after an hour or so he went home alone. It was cozy in his cabin, safely underwater with the sound of creaking wood and lapping waves all around him, so warm from the electronics that he didn't even need a sweater. He liked it down there, all familiar and safe, but it wasn't his and at times like this he was terribly aware of that fact. He'd been packed up and moved in and he could be moved out again, too. Once he had been, when he went to work with Bradley. And once he'd almost gone again, because he was angry with his friends. He hated to remember that week, how stupid he'd been in nearly leaving the people he loved best in the world. But even then, no one had hit him. He touched his bruised ribs gingerly, wondering why it had come to this.

Murray worked straight through the day, only stopping once to use the head and get a can of Pepsi, and would have gone on all night if Nick hadn't called. The guilt was crushing, but Nick sounded okay, not angry or particularly tired. Murray saved his work and locked up the boat. He was headed up the gangway when he heard footsteps behind him and a whistle calling him back. He turned and saw Mama Jo panting up after him, moving as fast as her old joints would carry her. Always kind, Murray ran to meet her.

"You been here alone all day, child?" she asked, sternly reproving.

"Well, I had a lot of work to catch up on and Cody, he's okay. Nick's been with him the whole time."

"I wish I'd known you were here. I'd have brought you over some of my famous fried chicken that we had for supper."

"That's all right, Mama Jo, I was pretty busy. But I appreciate the thought."

"Nothing to it. How're you and Nick getting along? He minding his manners?"

Murray blushed hotly, ducking his head as if to hide it.

"Look at me, Murray, and say yes or no. Are you okay?"

"Yes," he said, looking her square in the eye. "We've talked a lot and everything's okay."

"I believe you. I like all you boys, when you're not messing with my crew, but I like you best. I want you to remember that. You can always come to me if you need anything."

"Thank you, Mama. I think we're okay, though. And I need to go. Nick's waiting for a ride home."

"I won't keep you, then. Tell Cody I want to see him up and around soon."

"I will," he nodded, wondering if she had a message for Nick. He almost asked and then she was saying goodnight.

"Goodnight, Mama," he said and went on up to the car.

Nick had eaten supper with Cody and said he wanted to watch TV for a while before he went to bed. Murray got another can of Pepsi and sat down beside him.

"What's on?" he asked agreeably.

"_Flight of the Phoenix_. It's a great movie, one of my favorites."

"Oh, yes, it's fabulous. You know they really built that airplane and made it fly," he said enthusiastically. "Those aerial shots are real."

"Yeah, I know. One of the world's finest stunt pilots died trying to land it. See, they meant to have the landing in the movie, but when it went wrong the pilot was killed and the plane was destroyed. That's why it just disappears behind the hill like that. I think it's almost better that way. Makes it look more—poetic, I guess."

"I've always thought so but I didn't know about the pilot. That's really sad."

"It is and it isn't. He died doing what he loved, flying a one of a kind airplane that had never existed before, that no one else had ever flown. And it became part of a truly classic movie, one that will live forever. I got no urge to die but if I have to, I wouldn't mind going like that."

"Don't talk about dying, Nick. Not tonight, okay?"

"Sure, sorry."

Murray put his pop can aside and lay down on his back, tucking a pillow under his head. Nick was right behind him, his leg nearly touching the top of Murray's head. After a few minutes Nick tapped him on the shoulder and he sat up a little, craning his head to see why. Nick pulled the pillow away and moved over a little, pulling Murray back down on his thigh. The skinny man looked surprised but was accustomed to doing what they wanted. When Nick's hand moved to his shoulder he tensed a little, not knowing that Nick felt it and was torn with guilt. But the hand was warm and friendly and gradually Murray relaxed.

"This is the only part I don't like," he said, halfway through. "The whole Trucker Cobb thing just breaks my heart."

"You're too sensitive, Boz. Trucker's not that different from the stunt pilot, he was made for one thing. When he lost it, or when he thought he'd lost it, he had no reason to live. He died trying to help his friends in the best way he knew."

"I know that, Nick. That's why it's so sad. I just love Dorfmann, though. In the book the designer was an American, or an Englishman, I forget which. But I guess back then, if you could get Hardy Kruger in a movie, you did it. There was a German in the book but he killed himself."

"Yeah, you couldn't kill Hardy Kruger in the sixties. It's been done now, though. Do you have the book? I haven't read it."

"Really? Sure, I'll get it for you before I go to bed. You'll like it, Nick, it's totally boss. There's just one thing, though. The airplane they built isn't like the one in the movie. The one in the book probably couldn't have flown, which is weird, because the author was an engineer of some kind. I always wondered why he didn't see that it was wrong."

"Maybe he was a better writer than he was an engineer."

Murray laughed quietly and went back to watching the movie. Townes had already found Trucker's body and returned to the plane so it was safe to look. Right now everything felt pretty safe. Being close to Nick made him feel protected again, not nervous, as he had yesterday. He decided that Nick had forgiven him for whatever he'd done, maybe because Cody was coming home soon, or maybe just because he was over it. Either way, Murray was content. They watched to the end of the movie and as the credits rolled he spoke softly.

"Out of the desert there came seven men, and a monkey."

"What was that, Boz?"

"Nothing," he said, sitting up and stretching. "I'll go get you that book."

When he came back Nick asked him again to share his cabin and Murray agreed, even though his work called to him. He didn't stay all night this time, though. After Nick had been snoring heavily for an hour or so, Murray got up and went forward to his cabin where the computer waited. He worked in his pajamas until dawn, then dressed to make breakfast.

***

Cody was so happy to be going home that he didn't argue any of the doctor's instructions. No driving, no boating, no strenuous activity, checking in with his regular doctor in two days and returning to the hospital if he had any symptoms. Normally Cody would forget that last one, but knowing that holes had been drilled in his skull had him a little spooked. He let Nick hold his arm on the gangway, as if he hadn't made the walk a hundred thousand times or so, but insisted on sitting up in the salon when Nick wanted to send him to bed.

"I just want to look out the windows," he said with his most winning smile. "I promise I'll sit here and be good."

"Murray, you're the medical expert at the moment, what do you say?" Nick asked, as if he really wanted to know.

"Cody knows best how he feels," Murray said slowly. "And if you're not doing anything else you could hang around and keep him company. Watch some TV. You guys both deserve a break."

"What about you, Boz?" Cody asked, still smiling. "Nick tells me you've been working pretty hard. Want to watch some game shows or something?"

"No, I have a lot of work to do. I've been getting behind and the extension's almost run out on our taxes. But give me a call if you need anything."

"Sure thing," Cody said, puzzled. Murray hurried away and he turned to Nick. "Is he okay? I mean, if anyone needs a rest I'd say it was him. He looks pale to me. Don't you think he's pale?"

"He's always pale. But he's been doing the cooking so I'm pretty sure he's eating and he—well, he's been sleeping in your bunk."

"Oh yeah? When you're away he sleeps in yours."

"No kidding? I thought it was just me."

"Yeah, well…So you've been keeping an eye on him?"

"I've been keeping an eye on you, stupid. You're the one with the brain damage."

"Sure, but I'm not the kind to suffer in silence. Why don't you make lunch today and we'll drag him up here to make sure he eats. I bet he didn't yesterday."

"Now that you mention it, maybe not. I didn't see him but I was with you most of the day."

"There you go. I'm telling you, Nick, he's cheating himself again. I can always tell when he gets pale and jittery like that."

"You think he looks jittery?"

"Don't you?"

Nick sat down and turned on the TV before answering.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I guess I do, I just wasn't sure why. Until last night he was kind of—well—scared of me. God, that's about the worst feeling in the world, having Boz look at me like he thinks I'm going to hurt him. I wasn't thinking about much else. Except you, and I guess you weren't really the one who needed me."

"No, I did. But I'm okay now, so far as I know. Let's you and me try to take care of Murray a little, see if he mellows out."

Nick agreed and they both relaxed, forgetting the whole thing almost at once.

***

It was Murray who remembered lunch and brought chili and grilled cheese sandwiches up to the salon where his friends were still watching game shows and bickering over who had the most points. He didn't bring any for himself and while Cody gave him a narrow look when he said he'd already eaten, there was no way to prove him wrong. He sat down with a can of pop and watched a little of _Super Password_ but his hands were shaking and his long fingers tapped his knees constantly. After a few minutes he said he had more work to do and excused himself to go below.

"See? He's running on caffeine again," Cody whispered. "I doubt he even gets hungry anymore."

"No, probably not. So what are we gonna do?"

"Take him out to dinner, what else? I think I owe him one anyway, for saving my life and not busting up my boat."

"But not necessarily in that order."

"Right. I'm going below for a little nap. Will you keep an eye on him? Or an ear, at least?"

"Sure. I'll go putter around in the galley and eavesdrop on his typing." It could have been sarcasm but this one time it wasn't. Nick waited until Cody was safely down the stairs, then went forward to the galley where Murray was still washing dishes.

"Hey, Boz, why don't you let me do that? You're looking a little tired."

"I'm okay. You can dry if you want."

"Yeah, but you did the cooking. You've been running things here and Cody's been recovering from surgery, but I haven't really been doing anything."

"So dry," Murray said, flipping him a towel. Nick decided that was as good as it was going to get and complied. But afterward he managed to chase Murray out and let him clean up the stove and countertops. That didn't stop the other man from working, but it did force him to retreat to his cabin and work sitting down. Nick found a bag of cookies and put some on a plate for him.

"Here, I brought you a little snack. Don't work too hard, okay, buddy?"

"Thanks Nick. I'm okay but—I appreciate it."

"Sure. And Cody wants to go to Straightaway's tonight, kind of celebrate being home again. That cool with you?"

"Yes, absolutely. If I have this finished."

"Then by all means, get to it." Nick bowed out gracefully, knowing full well that when the time came he would carry Murray to the car if he had to, whether the work was done or not. But he qualified his cooperative appearance by going up the salon until he heard Murray begin to hum to himself, a sure sign of total distraction, and then snuck back down to the galley. He sat there at the tiny table, around as many corners as possible from Murray's casual glance, reading _The Flight of the Phoenix_ and waiting for it to be time to go.

***

Murray was distracted at dinner and didn't contribute much to the conversation but he ate half a burger and a few fries. People came over to ask Cody how he was feeling, or to ask about the bandage on his head, depending on their level of information, but Murray didn't speak unless someone spoke to him first. Only Mama Jo did.

"So you've proven your head's too hard to break," she said to Cody, in lieu of greeting.

"Oh, I don't know, Mama Jo. From what I heard, the doctors got into it all right."

"Well, I'm glad to see you back. I was getting tired of watching after this one all by myself," she said, patting Murray on the shoulder with one bony hand. Murray looked up, surprised and a little fearful, as if he'd caused some trouble without realizing it, and Cody was quick to laugh.

"It's okay, I'm back at the helm," he said with a wink. "I'll have the crew ship-shape again in no time."

"I don't know. Murray did a good job docking that tub of yours. I admit, when I saw it was him at the wheel I was surprised, but he brought her in straight as an arrow." Turning to Murray she asked, "Did he teach you that?"

"Well, yes, he did. I've been reading a lot, too. The _Blue Book_ and _The Ashley Book of Knots_. That Cliff Ashley, he was quite a sailor, wasn't he? It's not just knots it's—well, you've read it, of course."

"Course I have. Any sailor worth his salt knows _The Ashley_ like he does his own boat," she added with a look at Nick and Cody. Cody hadn't picked it up in years and Nick had no idea what she was talking about. They both ducked their heads and Murray was torn between laughter and pity.

"That's a good point, Mama Jo," Cody said boldly. "I was going to show Murray how to make a hammock, you know, to free up some more room down there for his computers. We'll go over _The Ashley_ and figure it out, huh, Boz?"

"Sure, that'd be neat. It's got a lot of really useful stuff in it. I almost wish we had a real sailboat so I could get more practice."

Cody cringed just a little at the idea of Murray sailing, but Nick managed to keep a straight face. Mama Jo, who knew more about sailing than all of the men combined ever would, turned a little pale beneath her tan.

"Well, Murray, we have plenty of deck cleats and so on for you to tie all the practice knots you want. And from what Nick told me about the other day you made good use of your lessons."

"Yeah, except I had to cut the stern line on the_ Ebb Tide_. I couldn't get it untied after you were aboard."

"That's okay. Sometimes cutting a line is the best thing to do, especially if you're pressed for time. Did you splice it yet?"

"No, I didn't think of it. I guess it's still hanging on the starboard rail. And off the stern of the _Ebb Tide_."

"We'll do that tomorrow then. And I'll show you how you can snub up a long bight like that and get it off real fast. It's a good trick."

"I can't believe you let these boys live on your boat not knowing how to make a line fast and cast it off in a hurry."

"Well, we all have our areas of expertise. I can't fly but Nick lets me in his chopper."

"Yes, but his chopper won't get away if it isn't moored properly. Speaking of which, your bollard's getting tarnished again. Nick, maybe you ought to see to that while Murray learns how to splice. At least he's got the hands for it."

"Do you think so?" Murray asked earnestly. "I've always been afraid they weren't strong enough for hard work."

"Don't have to be strong to work line, just nimble. And when you need strength, that's what the sea is for. Read your books and you'll know how to use it. I gotta be getting back to my table. You boys have a good night."

They all said goodnight and watched her walk away. After a while Nick spoke.

"Polishing the bollard, huh? Why do I feel like I've been issued a penance?"

"I think you have. You better do it, Nick, or she'll be over tomorrow night with her bat," Cody laughed.

"I don't get that. It's part of the pier, don't they have maintenance for that stuff?"

"It's part of our slip. Just do it, Nick, it won't kill you."

"I'll do it, if it's that important," Murray said, hoping to avoid a fight. That made Nick back down in a hurry.

"No, I'll do it. I oughta work on my tan anyway. And you have rope to splice."

"Line," Cody and Murray said in unison. Nick rolled his eyes.

"You and your terminology. You just like learning new words, don't you?"

"Of course," Murray said, surprised again. _Didn't everyone?_

"Of course. Sorry, Boz, I forgot. Why don't you finish up so we can go. I, for one, am exhausted." He meant to goad Murray into finishing his supper but got the opposite reaction, making him think he should leave it so they could go sooner.

"I'm finished, Nick. I wasn't that hungry."

"You sure, Boz?" Cody asked, concerned. "I think you're looking a little pale still."

"I always look pale. The only time I don't is when I have a sunburn."

"All right, come on then. You can have some ice cream when we get home." Nick paid the check without being asked and the three of them walked out together. It was a beautiful evening, the breeze off the ocean fresh without being too cool, at least for Nick and Cody. Murray was wearing his sweater and shivered just a little on the way to the car.

"You okay?" Cody asked and Murray nodded, sharp and jerky. Nick drove the short distance back to the pier, watching him in the rearview mirror. Suddenly he wondered if the other man had been sleeping after all. Nick slept so well it was hard to say. And except for a mouse-sized meal tonight, no one had seen him eat in days. Cody was right. He was pale and jittery and Nick had been too worried, and too guilty, to see it. For a moment he wondered if snafu or fubar best described this situation. He hoped it was the first and that he could arrest it before it became the second.

Murray held onto the railing as they went down the gangway but somewhere between the bottom of the ramp and the stairs up to the _Riptide_ he got lost. The setting sun was reflecting off the calm water, throwing darts of light from every glass and metal surface, and his head began to spin. He reached for something to steady himself but there was nothing there. Nick and Cody had moved ahead and though he tried to call out, he never heard himself make a sound. His toe hit something, his knees buckled and everything went black.

"What was that?" Nick said, even though he already knew. They'd heard Murray hit the water often enough to recognize the sound by now. But when they looked around, expecting to see him splashing in the harbor, there was nothing but a trail of bubbles.

"What the hell?" Cody cried, suddenly scared. "Where'd he go?"

"Stay here," Nick ordered and dived in, following the bubble trail. Cody thought it should have been him; he was the swimmer in the group. But swimming was even higher on the list of forbidden activities than driving and he knew he couldn't help by becoming another victim.

Murray was shocked back to consciousness by the cold water. His eyes went wide and he opened his mouth to scream. Water rushed in, choking him, and he felt himself sinking, watching the sunlight growing fainter and farther away. What a remarkable thing. He was a little disappointed when something large and dark hit the water, blocking out the fading sun and sending ripples across his vision. But the dark shape gave him a funny feeling of hope. He reached for it and missed. After that he knew no more.

"Cody," Nick was shouting, sputtering water as soon as he broke the surface. He was out of breath, all turned around and suddenly couldn't find the dock. "Cody?"

"Over here. I'm right here."

Nick swam over and together they wrestled the smaller body up onto the boards. Cody checked for a pulse while Nick climbed up and collapsed beside them.

"He's got a pulse but he's not breathing. Get on his chest, Nick."

Another blessed adrenaline rush hit him and he was able to leap up again. Nick laced his fingers in the middle of Murray's narrow chest and pushed hard, making water bubble up out of his mouth. After three compressions, Cody leaned down and blew as hard as he could into Murray's lungs. His chest didn't rise and Nick forced out some more water. By this time people had come from other boats to see what was going on, Mama Jo and John Harper, among others, and Nick felt their eyes upon him. Cody gave Murray another breath, Nick forced out a little more water, and suddenly the skinny man was coughing. They turned him on his side and he vomited up half a quart of sea water, gasping and wheezing the whole time.

"Somebody get a blanket," Nick yelled and one of the _Contessa_ girls leapt aboard the _Riptide_ to find one. When she came back, Murray was shivering violently but still trying fight the hands that restrained him. Nick took the blanket and wrapped him up tight, holding Murray against his chest to help him breathe.

"Okay, Boz?" he said anxiously, cradling the wet head in one broad hand. "Can you breathe?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," Murray whispered through chattering teeth and fell to coughing again.

"Cody, you better call an ambulance," Nick said and felt the body in his arms stiffen.

"No, don't do—" Murray chattered but Mama Jo interrupted.

"Already did. I knew when he went in that he wasn't coming back up."

They all turned to stare at her except Murray, who closed his eyes.

"What happened?" Cody asked. "We didn't see it."

"He blacked out. Didn't you, child?" she added and he nodded miserably. "A body like that hits the water, it doesn't float on its own. You boys ought to put a vest on him if you can't use your eyes."

"Thank you, Mama Jo," Cody said, smiling sincerely. "We'll take that under consideration."

"I don't want an ambulance," Murray whispered. "Let me go inside. Please, let's just go."

But the sirens were already wailing in the near distance and Nick told him no. The crowd separated to let the paramedics through and Murray submitted to being examined on the pier. But he wouldn't consent to going to the hospital, no matter what his friends said, and in the end they agreed to watch him overnight and take him in tomorrow if he got sick. For Murray it was the height of humiliation, being handled like an invalid in front of his neighbors, having his sweater and t-shirt removed and his skinny chest exposed to prying eyes. He was glad to have the blanket around his shoulders again and accepted Nick's supportive arm as they boarded the boat.

"Come on, Boz, let's get you in the shower," Nick said, steering him down the aft stairs.

"More water?"

"Hot water. You're freezing, buddy. Cody, can you put some soup on?"

"You got it," he called back, already heading forward to the galley.

"No, Nick, I'm okay," Murray said feebly.

"You're freezing to death. Come on, you want to get pneumonia again?" He propelled Murray into the head and closed the door. Murray gave up then, slumping against the wall with his eyes closed as Nick undressed him and pushed him into the shower. The water was almost too hot but Murray didn't protest. He propped himself up inside and stood still, head hanging. Nick couldn't help noticing the big, dark bruise on the left side of Murray's ribcage and it made him do something he otherwise never would have. This was all his fault somehow. There was something profoundly wrong with the man he thought of as his little brother and it could all be traced back to that bruised chest and black eye.

Nick stripped down to his shorts and stepped into the shower.

***

Cody was waiting in the salon with mugs of soup broth when Nick guided Murray back up the stairs. They were both wearing robes and Murray had a towel around his neck.

"Feeling better, Boz?"

"I'm okay," he murmured, too far beyond embarrassment to care anymore. Cody pushed a cup over to him and he drank it without comment. _Anything to get this evening over with. _

"Are you sure? I wish you'd gone to the hospital and let them check your lungs."

"I'm okay," he said again, his voice toneless and still. "Can I go to bed now?"

"Sure, Boz, anything you want," Cody said gently. "Can I help you?"

"No. No, thank you, I—you've helped me enough." He got up and made his way carefully down the forward stairs, holding tight to the railing.

"He's not okay," Cody said quietly.

"No, he's not."

"That bruise on his chest, where'd that come from?"

Nick looked up and Cody met his eyes steadily. The medics had asked him about it and Murray had said only that he'd been hit.

"I gave it to him, right before I blacked his eye. I forgot all about it. Probably hurts like hell and he never said a word."

"Ah shit," Cody sighed. "Doesn't look like he's over it, though, does it?"

"No. He's been working extra hard to keep things going so that we—_I_—don't get mad at him again. I apologized, you know? I did everything you said, I thought it was settled. And then he blacks out on the pier and almost drowns right next to our boat, in front of everyone we know. I'm afraid if I try any harder he'll spontaneously combust."

"Yeah, a fire on a boat is no good. But I think we better risk it. Go down there and see if you can do anything. I'd try but I already shot my wad the other day."

"Yeah, so did I. But I'll give it another try. Just, uh, people don't really spontaneously combust, do they?"

"I don't think so. There's an extinguisher in his room, though. Just in case."

"Good to know." Nick took a few minutes to dress and then went to Murray's cabin. He was sitting on the edge of his bunk in his pajamas, hands folded, staring at the floor. "Hey, Boz. How're you doing?"

"I'm okay."

"Yeah, I can see that. But you and I are going to have a little talk anyway."

"If you want." Murray was cleaning his glasses with a handkerchief and didn't look up.

"Murray, did you know that I don't like you?"

"What?" He flinched, fumbling his glasses on to see if Nick was joking.

"Did you know that I hate having you around? You're just the most useless person I've ever encountered. You know the phrase _more trouble than it's worth_? Well, that applies to you perfectly. Did you know that?"

"I don't understand," Murray said quietly. "I—I work hard. I cooked all your meals, I drove you to the hospital, I—I saved Cody's life. He's your best friend, that ought to be worth something."

"Yeah, it ought to be, but I'm an ungrateful bastard. You saved my best friend's life and I beat you up because I was scared he might still die and it would be my fault. That proves I don't like you, right?"

"Not—not necessarily," he said slowly. "You could have been—having a bad day." Even when his world was ending, he was still the scientist, still testing conclusions, as Nick had known he would.

"Sure, but if that was all, you'd be over it by now. If we were friends, if I liked you, you'd know that."

"You—I—I always thought we were friends."

"But now you think we're not? You think all my apologies and explanations were lies?"

"I—I don't know. I'm so confused right now." Tears were streaming down his face and he took his glasses off again, trying to cover his eyes.

"I know you are, but it's really very simple. Do you believe the stuff I said two _minutes_ ago or all the stuff I've said over the last two _years_? That's all you have to decide."

"I'm so scared," Murray whispered, his face buried in his hands. "Ever since it happened, on the beach, I've been scared. The way I talked to you—I've never done that before and I'm sorry."

Nick put his arm around Murray's shoulders and drew him close.

"You didn't say anything wrong."

"I—I said that you'd bitch it up and he'd die."

"No, you didn't. You said you were planning ahead so that didn't happen, remember? And it's a good thing you were because I wasn't. There's no shame in taking charge, Boz, especially when no one else is. I didn't know what to do, not really, and you handled it. You were right. I never can keep the port and starboard buoys straight. I didn't even know enough to cut the _Ebb Tide_ loose. You're the one who knows that aerodynamics applies to water."

"Hydrodynamics," Murray laughed through a sob.

"Right, that."

Murray was still laughing and crying at the same time, edging subtly toward hysteria, and Nick let it go on.

"You've been scared all this time," he said quietly. "I understand that; I have been, too. Cody was hurt and I was screwing things up with you; I felt like I was losing my two best friends."

"So did I," Murray gasped out, turning his face against Nick's shoulder.

"I know. I kept trying to head it off, but that doesn't work with you. You get all sleep deprived and hungry and wired and you don't listen. Jesus, Boz, you almost died out there tonight."

Murray nodded and Nick wrapped his other arm around him, rocking the thin body unconsciously.

"I was so scared and I kept thinking if I just worked harder—if I were more useful—"

"Murray, you _couldn't_ be more useful. _No one_ could. God, all this time—you never cried, did you? I did, sitting in that hospital beside Cody's bed, but you didn't. You just let things build up."

He nodded again and Nick squeezed him harder, forcing the tears out as he had the water from Murray's lungs.

"I'm sorry I said all that stuff just now, though. I was just trying to get a reaction. You know that, right? I wanted to make you defend yourself so you'd see how wrong it all was."

"Yeah, I—I know." He rubbed his hands over his eyes and tried to pull away but Nick didn't let go.

"Just take a second, okay? There's no rush." Which was tough guy speak for _you almost died and now I want to hold you for another minute_. Murray understood and had to bite back a sob.

"You saved my life tonight," he said when he could speak again. "I woke up when I hit the water and I couldn't breathe. I couldn't get my arms to work and I knew I was going to die. I saw you coming, though. Right before I passed out again, I saw you."

"Were you surprised?" Nick asked the question lightly but sweat broke out on his forehead as he awaited the answer.

"No. The surprising thing was that I wasn't. I did think you hated me for a while, it was the only explanation that made sense after—after how hard I tried to help. But you left Cody on the pier and dove into the harbor for _me_ and somehow—somehow I wasn't surprised. I guess I knew all along."

"Good. Don't forget again, okay?"

Murray nodded again, chuckling softly at himself. It was a sound Nick loved and hadn't heard in too long.

"Why don't you lie down and cover up and I'll get you some more soup? Get your blood sugar regular again and things will make a lot more sense."

"Sure, Nick. Whatever you say." But he was smiling and they both knew it was really okay now.

"You know, Murray, life is a lot like the ocean," he said as he stood up and tucked the blankets around his friend.

"How's that?"

"It's full of hidden danger. Reefs that can tear your bottom out, deep water that you can fall into, and sharks. There are a _lot_ of sharks out there. And you know how you protect yourself from them?"

"How?" he asked sleepily, putting his glasses back on.

"You stay on the boat. You stick with your friends and you protect each other, with everything you have. You never let the sharks get in between."

"I'll remember that, Nick. Thank you."

"_No_," he said forcefully. "No, no, Murray, thank _you_. I'm going to go get your soup now." He touched the cool forehead, smiling gently at Murray's contented expression, and went back to the galley. Cody was there waiting.

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah. For real this time, I think. I'm going to take him some more soup and I think I ought to stay a while. Make sure he doesn't try to go back to work or something. You'll be okay, right?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. Don't worry about me. Just make sure nothing else happens to the little guy. Don't let the sharks get him, huh?"

"Are you laughing at me?"

"Not even a little bit. But don't forget to tell him that life, and the ocean, are beautiful, too."

"I think he already knows that." Nick returned to Murray's cabin with the soup but his friend was asleep, still wearing his glasses, still smiling a peaceful little smile. Nick took off the glasses and sat down in the desk chair to wait. Murray didn't wake up again that night.

***

Mama Jo stood on deck in the mid morning sun, watching the boys on the _Riptide_ working together again. Nick was polishing the bollard and arguing good naturedly with Cody that they should just call it a cleat. Pier 56 hadn't had proper bollards in years, maybe decades, but some people couldn't let go of tradition. Cody told him to call it daddy if he wanted to, just shine it up. On the bow of the _Riptide_ he and Murray sat cross legged, facing each other, while Cody showed him how to make a seven foot splice that would reeve through a block.

"You could make a short splice," he was saying, "but it wouldn't reeve and you'd always have to remember that that piece of line had limited applications. If you do it this way, splice for six or seven feet, as often as the length allows, then you don't have to worry so much what you use it for."

Murray nodded along, studying his friend's fingers unlaying the line as intently as he studied circuits and mold colonies. When he glanced up and saw Mama Jo watching, he waved brightly and then shifted his focus back to the task at hand. She waved back, satisfied that he was safe enough. She knew more about the sharks than anyone else at the pier and she could see they hadn't gotten her boys. Not yet, at least. But she would keep a weather eye on them, just in case.


End file.
